


like the sun through the blinds

by ghostofgatsby



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Ghouls, Goths, Hellhounds, Kissing, M/M, New Orleans, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Rope Bondage, Urban Magic Yogs, drabbles-for-charity-prompt, october17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 19:07:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15007424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofgatsby/pseuds/ghostofgatsby
Summary: Sips climbed up, straddling Ross’ hips and smiling down at his work, tying Ross' wrists and ankles to the bedposts.Ross blinked owlishly up at him. There was a faint blush in his cheeks, and Sips brushed the back of his finger across it. “You okay?” he asked.Ross nodded. Sips watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m- I’m good.”“Fantastic.”





	like the sun through the blinds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [threeplusfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/threeplusfire/gifts).



> For the drabbles-for-charities thing I'm doing. Find info about it here:  
> https://ghostofgatsby13.wordpress.com/2018/06/21/the-world-sucks-and-theres-no-fic-to-read-lets-change-that/
> 
> THIS IS SO MUCH LONGER THAN IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE.
> 
> Three requested an idea about something from alterUMY NOLA- an alternate universe UMY world set in New Orleans, something I made up and that we've talked about a lot in the past. I had most of this done back during the MonsterWeekPrompts last year, for undead day, but never finished it. Ross is an 80s goth, Sips is a ghoul who works at a cemetery. This is perhaps a little further along in their relationship. Hope you like it, Three ^^.
> 
> reblog: https://ghostofgatsby13.wordpress.com/2018/06/22/like-the-sun-through-the-blinds-ghostofgatsby
> 
> (prompts: http://threeplusfire.tumblr.com/post/165622933491/prompt-week-monster-edition)

Evening light cast through the blinds as the sun started it’s descent into the horizon. Chittering bats took flight from their home in the church’s belfry, scrabbling around on the wooden beams in the attic above the bedroom.

The second story of the church and the steeple section had been the last to be refurbished and repaired. Sips had mostly used the back room for storage since the floor had been half rotted on the other side, but the money he gained by trading kelpie absinthe meant a lot of things- least of all upgrades to a hurricane-survived building and installing heavy-duty air conditioning.

The new bedroom was now fit with stable flooring and slanted ceilings, thick rugs and curtains, and a collection of antique furniture that Sips and Ross had both selected.

On a bedside table next to a bronze-burnished lamp, was Ross' keys and wallet, a lighter and pocket knife, and spare change, resting in an iridescent blue bowl. It was a fluted glass thing they'd picked up at a garage sale last month, so Ross had somewhere to dump out his pockets. Beside it was a tiny metal figurine, of a skeleton sitting on a grave, giving the viewer the finger and grinning. It was too funny for Ross to pass up when they went browsing through the marked down Halloween goods.

Shelves across from the bed kept more of Sips’ weirder knick knacks- stone spheres, miscellaneous removed street signs, and stacks of magazines to read. Black and gold candle sticks were carefully clustered at one end, but there were no candles in them just yet. Sips had been busy scraping wax off of every surface in the living room, and he didn’t want to accumulate drippings in the new bedroom just yet.

On the other end of the shelves, faint music played from the record player. “Bow House” or whatever it was. Sips had been introduced to so many different musicians from Ross’ record collection that he had a hard time remembering all the names. He normally selected his own music tastes based on album cover or songs that he liked the melodies of. The music for tonight was Ross' choice this time. Such a thing didn’t matter to Sips, but he had to admit it worked for the mood.

Underneath his feet, the floorboards made the slightest creak, something only Sips’ ghoul-hearing picked up. He shifted his weight as he looped the end of the rope around the post and knotted it tight. The sturdy headboard and footboard had carved lions on the posts with metal- not iron- rings in their mouths.

“Looks like door knockers,” Ross had said when they found it, tugging at the ring and cringing at the resultant squeak. But Sips had eyed the bed, and Ross, and decided Ross couldn’t keep sleeping on a cot in the 2nd floor of the church whenever he came to visit. The living room was not a bedroom. So, when the new bedroom had been finished, the wooden bedframe had been stripped of the remaining, peeling stain and repainted black, and the hinges of the rings had been oiled.

Now, Sips has got Ross right where he wants him.

“Doesn’t remind you of door knockers anymore, does it?” he asked, chuckling, checking the ties at Ross' wrists and ankles. He'd just taught Ross a quick-release limb tie, something easy to undo but sturdy, and then demonstrated it further by tying Ross spreadeagle to the bed.

Sips climbed up, straddling Ross’ hips and smiling down at his work. The bed was definitely a good choice.

Ross blinked owlishly up at him. There was a faint blush in his cheeks, and Sips brushed the back of his finger across it. “You okay?” he asked.

Ross nodded. Sips watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m- I’m good.”

“Fantastic.” Sips leaned closer, kissing Ross’ lips, across his jaw, the crook of his neck. He ran his fingers through Ross' hair. Ross’ body heat leached from where he laid on the bed, so warm to Sips’ touch.

Ross squirmed a little underneath him, testing the give of the rope and arching his body up against Sips. He tilted his head, craning his neck towards Sips to kiss him. Sips indulged him for a few moments, cupping Ross’ jaw with a hand and feeling the thin stubble. Then Sips pushed Ross back down, flat to the bed. The palm of Sips’ hand pressed against Ross’ chest, and he felt more than heard the quiet moan he provoked from him.

“ _Sips_...” Ross bit his lip, meeting Sips’ glowing eyes in the slowly darkening room. There was half a plea, half a whine, in his voice.

Sips smirked. He snuck his cold hand under the hem of Ross’ shirt and watched him shudder, scratching his nails lightly across his skin. Behind him, Ross’ heels dug futilely into the sheets, searching for some kind of leverage. A whine escaped between his lips.

Sips pulled his hand out from under Ross’ shirt and laughed good-naturedly. “As much as I love the noises, Ross, you’re gonna have to tell me what you want. With words.” He brushed a lock of Ross’ fluffy, gravity-defying hair out of his eyes, smiling.

Ross licked his lips and sighed. “I want-”

The sudden sound of a hell hound’s haunting, hollow howl made them both freeze. Sips strained his ears and heard the very distant banging of the metal cemetery gates, the revving of engines, and shouting. The gates banged again, and then there was snarling.

“Blixa,” Ross said, his eyes wide and mouth agape. “We should-”

Sips was already reaching for the ties on Ross’ hands, quickly pulling the loops loose on each wrist and then leaning down to undo the ones on Ross’ ankles. Ross shook the rope loose from his wrists and black jean clad legs, and they quickly head downstairs and out towards the cemetery gate where the sound comes from.

When Ross stayed the night at Sips’ place, his half-hellhound, Blixa, would wander and keep an eye on the cemetery for Sips. His howling meant they had visitors- and the revving of engines Sips had heard meant it wasn’t a good thing. It meant something or someone had come in, and they were running.

Sure enough, they find Trott stopped just inside the cemetery gates with a couple of kelpies on either side of him. Blixa growled, stepping backward protectively to shield Sips and Ross behind him. His eyes glowed bright red in the dark; his dappled soot-grey fur nearly blending into the shadows.

Ross called him off. At the sound of Ross' voice, the half-hellhound stopped growling and lopped over to him, greeting Ross excitedly and wagging his tail with a loud _thwup thwup thwup_. Half Ross’ height, Blixa’s head was almost to Ross’ shoulders. Ross grinned, scritching behind the half-hellhound’s pointed ears. “Good boy...who’s a good boy? Yeah, it’s you!”

Blixa panted, his tongue lolling out past large, sharp canines.

“Didn’t know you got an attack dog,” Trott remarked to Sips.

Sips nodded at Ross. “Part time help. Good for keeping watch.”

Blixa strolled over to Trott again, now aware that the would-be intruders aren’t a threat, and sniffed around Trott's legs. Trott stiffly pats him on the head, wary.

“Whatcha here for this time?” Sips asked, glancing around for tracks or signs of disturbance in the cemetery. Among Blixa’s giant paw-prints were the treads of athletic shoes.

“Large fellow stumbled in carrying something of ours...” Trott grumbled. “We'll be quick.” He and his kelpies look past Sips, and Sips stepped out of their way.

“Next time I’m sure Blixa will be less trouble. So long as nothing that’s not yours is carried out with him, your business is your own.” Sips’ agreement with the kelpies about trespassing in the cemetery was paid for by a supply of their famous absinthe, which Sips sold in ghoul markets at a high profit. Sips meant what he said- a ghoul protected departed property and the spirits still residing among the gravestones- and if no damage occurred then the deal held. He wouldn’t say the kelpies were always trustworthy, but Trott kept his word, and Sips had no quarrel with them.

Ross called Blixa to him again, and he and Sips started back toward the church. Trott and his kelpies spread out from the gate and started searching.

Ross knew enough now about what happened to the people kelpies tracked down, and neither of them were willing to stay behind, not even to see whoever the kelpies were looking for. Except maybe Blixa, who laid down under the closest tree to the church, panting and wagging his tail loudly against the dirt. The hellhound looked pretty happy with himself, surveying the gravestones behind them.

“Next time, Blixa, just corner the guy for them, yeah?” Sips commented. He swung an arm over Ross' shoulders as they walked together up to the church. “You alright?” he asked. “Things got cut abruptly short there, before we went to see what Blixa was alerting us for.” Faint rope lines marked Ross’ wrists. Sips wondered if Trott noticed, but the kelpies were probably more focused on Blixa.

Ross ran a hand through his hair. He gave Sips a small smile. “I’m alright, just...a little shaken from that alarm howl, maybe.”

Sips nodded. They’d never heard it before. Could have been something worse then just kelpies at the gate. “Next time, maybe you should stay back in the church while I check it out.”

“Because it’s not safe? Yeah, but what about you? And I know, I know, you can handle yourself, and I’m human...” Ross kicked a stray rock, and it bounced off a wooden post in the fence line between the outer cemetery and the slope on which the church stood.

“Ross-” It was a common disagreement, and one he shouldn’t have brought up again.

Ross shrugged off Sips’ arm and sighed. “What’d you buy a hellhound for, then! You got Blixa for me, and he’d protect me if whatever was out there was dangerous. If it was something you had to fight. I’d be okay, you know?” He met Sips’ gaze, and sighed at the admonished look on Sips’ face.

“You’re right...I just. You know.” Sips shrugged.

Ross took Sips’ hand and faux-pulled him along as they climbed the stairs up to the second floor of the church. “I don’t want you to get hurt, either,” he said over his shoulder, and smiled.

Sips steadied him as he stumbled up the steps, and followed Ross inside, closing the door behind him. They passed through the open kitchen and living room, and into the bedroom again, where Ross plopped down onto the bed on his back, and kicked off his shoes, dangling his feet over the end.

“All that tired me out,” he said, “but not too tired, if you aren’t.”

“I don’t sleep.”

“I know.” Ross smirked.

Sips rolled his eyes. He sat down beside him, running his fingers through Ross’ hair. “You never did say what it was that you wanted.”

Ross’ cheeks flushed pink, and Sips smiled. The last hints of sunlight crept through the window, and he remembered Ross couldn’t see as well in the dark as he could. It was a shame, because even in the dark Ross looked just as cute.

“I...I want everything,” Ross admitted, “Everything you want to give me.”

Sips tutted, a cheeky smile crossing his face. “You don’t really _mean that_ , Ross. We talked about that. Gotta be specific.”

“What if I did, though. Mean what I said.” Ross licked his lips.

Sips rolled his eyes, stopped petting Ross’ hair and stroked his cheek instead. “You’re  _still_  going to have to be more specific...” he leaned in and kissed the spot just under Ross’ ear, feeling Ross shiver next to him. “How else am I supposed to know what you’re thinking?” he whispered.

As he pulled back, Ross turned his head towards him, and their noses bumped momentarily. Ross stared back at Sips, and his hand reached out to rest on Sips’ knee.

Sips casually glanced from Ross’ hand to his smile.

“Words, Ross,” he reminded him warmly.

“I just. I just _want_  you. Close to me. Holding me. Everything...” Ross pulled at Sips until he settled beside him, pressed almost chest to chest on the bed. Sips was so close he could count Ross’ eyelashes if he wanted. He curled one arm around Ross’ waist.

“Like this?” Sips asked cheekily.

Ross nodded. “Kiss me? Please?”

Sips smiled. How could he say no to that? “Oh, if that’s all...a kiss...” he teased, and he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Ross owns a half-hellhound, Blixa (after Blixa Bargeld), that Sips bought to protect him.  
> And yes, Trott’s reversed from regular UMY- he’s a kelpie here, part of a roving motorcycle gang. (Smith is a selkie, but he doesn’t show up in this particular scene.)
> 
> some furniture for Sips’ renovated church house:  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/BZZe6xjh0Tm  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/BZZerEmhh05  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/BZZeSYHDlnG  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/BZZc2UpHyre  
> https://img.etsystatic.com/il/1b3743/933837569/il_570xN.933837569_2c70.jpg?version=0
> 
> some songs for the mood:  
> All We Ever Wanted Was Everything- Bauhaus  
> Cuts You Up- Peter Murphy


End file.
